Getting your Trinity Audio player ready...

I recently had a conversation with my watch repairman in Spartanburg—a man so deeply knowledgeable about timepieces that each visit feels like a walk through both a showroom and a history book. During my latest stop, he shared some news: vendors like Seiko, Hamilton and Swiss Army are warning of yet another round of price increases. He didn’t sound surprised—but oddly, I was.

It was like waking up from a nightmare and realizing it wasn’t a dream—it was real. From watches to jewelry to the price of avocados, everything seems poised to go up.

What I didn’t expect was how our conversation continued. “You know,” he said, “the prices never really go back down like you might expect them to.” While he was talking about watches, my mind quickly jumped to just about everything else.

Take the luxury watch market in the early 1980s. Gold prices soared to nearly $800 an ounce, driven by inflation, global instability and speculation. Luxury watchmakers like Rolex quickly raised prices. But when gold prices dropped, the watch prices didn’t. Buyers had already shown they were willing to pay more. Once that price point was accepted, manufacturers had no incentive to walk it back.

That’s a classic example of price stickiness—how prices rise quickly but rarely fall at the same rate, even when costs normalize. And you don’t have to look far to see this elsewhere.

Fuel prices spike with crude oil. But when oil drops, prices at the pump lag. Grocery prices surged during the pandemic and have largely remained elevated despite stabilization in supply chains.

The housing market follows a similar pattern. In March 2025, Polk County saw 37 home closings—a 2.6% drop from the year before. Listings rose to 45, and inventory increased by 5%, giving buyers a bit more breathing room. But the median sales price climbed to $445,000, up 1.8% year over year.

Still, the story isn’t one-sided. A colleague of mine who tracks daily MLS activity noticed a growing number of price reductions across the region. Homes from modest bungalows to multi-million-dollar estates have been marked down. Several others in Tryon, Saluda and Mill Spring followed suit.

While it might seem like a contradiction, these reductions are more likely corrections than a reversal of the broader trend. Many sellers likely overpriced from the start. The cuts reflect a response to more cautious buyers—not a collapse in value. If anything, they reinforce the idea that while prices can flex, they rarely retreat significantly without a larger economic shock.

Part of what keeps prices high is psychology. Once buyers adjust to a new range, it becomes the benchmark. Sellers—especially those who bought high or spent heavily on improvements—are reluctant to accept less. And just like Rolex, when a product is associated with a certain value, cutting the price risks undermining that perception.

Another force is human nature. Greed may sound harsh, but in business, it often appears as strategic self-interest. Sellers don’t drop prices just because they can—they wait to see if someone will still pay more. In finance school, one rule was drilled into us repeatedly: the goal of any business is to maximize investor wealth. That rarely involves lowering prices voluntarily.

Add in persistent inflation, labor shortages, and high interest rates discouraging sellers from listing, and you have a market that may flatten—but is unlikely to fall.

Real-world economics are rarely symmetrical. When tariffs hit, prices rise fast. But when tariffs are lifted, relief is slow—if it comes at all. Businesses often maintain elevated prices, citing “new norms,” investing profits or simply holding the line.

So the next time someone warns you prices are rising—on a watch, a gallon of milk or a home—it might be worth asking: how likely are they to come back down?

From what I’ve seen, and from what I’ve heard in that quiet little watch shop in Spartanburg, the answer seems to be: not very.